


Dark Angelo 3: Van Dunk, from skater to criminal mastermind?

by rawenky



Category: Angelo la débrouille | Angelo rules (Cartoon)
Genre: Abuse (thanks to Mr Foote and Ollie being horrible human beings in this fic), Aged-Up Character(s), But not today, Dark Angelo AU, F/M, I swear I’ll stop making Tracy suffer one day, Swearing, The fight scenes aren’t typical anymore, The typical Dark Angelo fight scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27669647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rawenky/pseuds/rawenky
Summary: When Meow resurfaces claiming Ollie Van Dunk is bad news, Dark Angelo needs to set his priorities straight and decide if his only weakness apart from vegetables can be trusted, or if the black cat is still announcing bad luck.
Relationships: Angelo & his crew, Angelo / Gladys de la Fourbinière | Tracy Flickinger, Gladys de la Fourbinière | Tracy Flickinger & betrayal
Comments: 13
Kudos: 14





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back with a new fic!
> 
> I wanna say a big ‘thank you’ to my friend Soso for inspiring me, if you speak German, go check her fanfiction over on Wattpad, it’s really good!
> 
> This fic is about Dark Angelo, so expect people getting hurt and a more serious tone than my previous fics.
> 
> I hope you’ll like it!

It was that time of the night where the city lights made the sky a gradient of orange, purple and red, buildings reaching up to the sky like enormous shadows weighting down on him.

Midnight, well past his long forgotten curfew. Angelo is fifteen, he can take care of himself, and the city needs him.

“ _ Are you sure you want to follow them? There’s a high chance they won’t be doing anything tonight. _ ” The voice in his ear is sharp, broken by static, he’s in the most abandoned part of town, communications are fucked up here.

“Sher, trust me,  _ I know _ something will happen,” he mumbles, kneeling behind a rusting car when he sees  _ them _ turning around in his direction.

Sherwood says something back but the static cuts everything off, guess he’ll have to work without him tonight.

The two guys he’s been following for a good twenty minutes now stop in front of an empty mall, the place deserted after every store went bankrupt. After checking something on their phone they decide to push the doors and enter.

“Time to get stealthy.” Angelo whispers, pulling his hood up and readjusting his mask on his face. He follows quickly after them, carefully stopping the door from making any noise.

It’s dark inside, the only light is right ahead, inside the old music store, white, cold light falling on the two guys’ backs.

He’s about to make his entrance, ready to slam one of the guys against the counter when a voice raises from above him.

“Well, well, look what the  _ cat _ dragged in.”

He knows this voice, heard it hours ago in class.

His head snaps to where the voice comes from, there she is…  _ Meow _ , kneeling on the top of the self, looking down at him like he’s a nice looking fish she’s gonna eat in the next two minutes. It’s been months since he last saw her, her costume changed, it became more practical than the dress The Teacher forced her to wear.

Before he can even open his mouth, she jumped down next to him, shoving her bangs out of her eyes as she walks past him.

The two guys he’s been following receive twenty bucks each to shut up, forget everything and leave and Meow locks the store behind them as they leave, trapping her and Dark Angelo inside.

“Alright, what do you want?” he asks, crossing his arms and leaning on the counter.

“Don’t ask why,” Meow responds, tugging one of her gloves down past her elbow to reveal a nasty looking wound. “But I want Vertigo to have a look at this.”

“So basically we’re just here to patch you up?”

“Yes.”

Yeah he kind of guessed it already, and he can’t really refuse her the medical attention with the way her arm is looking, the skin is as purple as the city sky, dry blood and yellow bruises mixing up.

He sighs. “Come with me.”

—

Their HQ isn’t at school anymore, it’s too risky with The Teacher back in business. Instead they relocated in the unused attractions at the adventure park, the aesthetic is great, and Butter-Fingers can make sure no one finds them.

It’s the first time Meow sees the new HQ, she doesn’t look impressed, although the twist of disgust on her face could be because of her wound and not the HQ itself.

“I see you relocated. That was...  _ predictable _ ,” she grunts, slumping down on a metal chair. “I liked the couch better.”

“You liked it because that’s where you kissed me,” Angelo retorts, rolling his eyes when Meow blushes and looks away. “Alright, show me your arm.”

It’s even worse up close, the wound hasn’t been cleaned, and it’s likely infected by now. His fingers brush over it and Meow has to hold back a groan.

“Meow, this is serious,  _ who _ did that?”

“I said,  _ no questions asked _ .”

Yeah, no. Cut the bullshit, Meow’s his friend at least that’s what she is to him, and if there’s someone out there threatening his friends, he  _ will _ find them.

But first, they need to do something about that wound.

Sherwood is waiting for them at his computer, the five different screens recording the city’s every move. He turns his chair around when he hears them approaching, eyeing Meow up and down before grabbing the first-aid kit.

“So,  _ you _ ’re the reason Dark went silent.” The bandage is tighter than it needs to be around her arm, just to remind her that she’s not in charge here.

She rolls her eyes, biting her lip to stop the hiss of pain from escaping her mouth. “If you get disconnected whenever the signal gets too weak, then I should just go ask Man-eater for help.”

“He’s still around?” Angelo asks, “I thought he stopped for good after… you know.”

“After sending Ethan to the hospital with a few broken ribs?” Meow continues, because talking about those things never disturbed her. “Nah, he’s still around, smashing down cars or whatever. Where’s Ethan?”

The boys don’t answer, Angelo not knowing anything and Sherwood too focused on taking the bandage off because the wound started bleeding through it.

Meow shifts uncomfortably on her chair when Sherwood pokes at the skin, glaring at him behind the bangs falling back in her face.

After five minutes of uncomfortable silence, she groans and clears her throat. “It was Van Dunk.”

It takes a few seconds for Angelo to understand what she’s talking about, but then he realizes.  _ Ollie Van Dunk sliced her arm like it was a piece of meat _ . His fists clench behind his back, and he has to hold his mouth shut to stop himself from insulting Ollie of every name possible.

“Why?” he asks, his voice as cold as the chill running down his spine at the idea of someone he knows hurting his friends.

Sherwood looks at him softly, trying to calm him down but this is  _ Meow _ they’re talking about, he can’t let that go unnoticed.

“I can’t tell you exactly, but he’s planning something big,” she explains, “he’s got goons all over town, and they’re not here to play, the cut is nothing compared to what they can do.”

“Why Ollie?” Sherwood asks, “he’s so rich he could get anything he wanted, it doesn’t make sense.”

They’ll have to find that out by themselves, but right now the more important is to be sure Meow isn’t compromised. “He said anything to you?”

“No, I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time,  _ that _ —” she points to her arm “— was a warning.”

Well if Ollie’s warnings are like that, he doesn’t want to hear about the things he could do to really hurt.

After taking care of the cut on her arm, Sherwood leaves Meow and Dark Angelo alone to focus on his computer. Meow says she has to leave and with the way she’s limping, Dark Angelo knows there’s more to the story than just a cut…

—

So what if he follows her? She would understand, they may be friends, but they don’t trust each other. And he was right to follow Meow, because guess who she’s meeting when she leaves? Ollie Van Dunk himself.

“What do you have for me?” he asks, crossing his arms and leaning on his side.

“I have the location of Dark Angelo’s HQ, infos about his teammates, and I placed your chip on their computer.”

Ollie smiles, a toothy grin that makes him look more like a shark than a professional skater. "Good job, Kitty,” he says, grabbing at the arm he supposedly cut and  _ squeezing _ . “Maybe I won’t need to force you to work for me anymore.”

Meow snarls and plants her fist in his stomach hard enough to make him lose his breath. “I work for  _ myself _ , not you, not Dark Angelo, hit me all you want, if I don’t  _ want _ to work with you, you won’t be able to make me.”

She gets a kick in the ribs for that and Ollie tells her to fuck off.

He doesn’t notice the chip she placed on  _ his _ laptop, nor the one under his skate, and he doesn’t see the way she waves at the ceiling when she leaves, right where Dark Angelo was hiding, on top of the metal beams holding the building up.

Meow is back in business and she still shouldn’t be trusted apparently.


	2. Two

Finally, after all this time they finally have it. The location of Dark Angelo’s HQ. He’s going to need his best goons for this, and fast. Tonight, The Teacher will put Dark Angelo in detention for good.

And all of it thanks to his niece.

“You did a good job Meow, even if I don’t like the change of style,” he says, nodding at her.

“What? This is way more practical, and resistant than the shit you made me wear,” she retorts tugging her gloves up her arms.

Black pants, combat boots and a black sleeveless vest is not what Owen calls good looking. “Put the dress back on, _now_.”

His niece scoffs, rolling her eyes and giving him the finger— his sister really messed up with her education.— “No, I won’t and you don’t get to decide what I wear unless you want me to shove that dress up your throat.”

 _Fine_ , he’ll let her have some fun, if it ensures that she’ll stay in line for the important things, he’s ready to make some efforts.

He dismisses her with a wave of the hand, and she slams the door behind her.

After making sure she’s not behind the door, eavesdropping for infos, he calls Van Dunk.

“We will have to work quick, how many men can you put on this?” He says, already grinning at the prospect of Dark Angelo locked away in the school’s basement, rotting there for years.

“ _I’ll be there in person, like you wanted, and I have some… over-enthusiastic fans ready to do anything I say, thanks to your serum._ ”

“How many, Van Dunk?”

“ _Two._ ”

It’s not enough, but if Man-eater keeps his promise, they can make it work.

—

The serum The Teacher is working on is some sort of drug, rendering the user totally lacking any sort of free will, they’ll follow The Teacher’s order like obedient machines as long as the serum stays in their veins. Why he hadn’t tried it on Tracy yet is a mystery…

—

She’s scared, anytime now and she could become a puppet for him. She tracks Ollie’s every move, trying to find a weak point to slow the operation down, but her uncle put his hands _everywhere_ , everything is running smoothly.

She needs that weak point, the thing that will tear their alliance apart, there _has_ to be something.

—

Every Friday evening is ‘meeting night’, the whole team reunites to talk about their progress on protecting the city, tonight even Ethan is gonna be here. Angelo is on his way to the adventure park when his phone buzzes like a madman from his pocket. It’s an unknown number, but something in his guts tells him he has to answer.

His thumb brushes over the ‘accept call’ button and immediately there’s someone yelling at him.

“ _Don’t go to the adventure park!_ ”

“Who are you? Why shouldn’t I go?” he asks, fist clenching around the phone.

“ _Where are you?_ ”

“Uh, near Cathy’s bakery, why?”

The caller hangs up, and Angelo is left wondering what the fuck that was. He returns to the task at hand, which is to go to the adventure park despite the caller’s warning. But something feels wrong...

He’s just a street away, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach, when he hears a breathless someone running behind him. And before he knows it he’s being yanked backwards by the hood of his hoodie, his back hitting the ground and his breath leaving his lungs.

Fucking Tracy decided it was a good day to be a brat apparently, she’s above him, yelling something at him.

His brain takes a second before registering what she’s saying, but when it does, it’s _bad_.

“-can’t go there, they’re already here!” she says, her eyes are going from his face to the empty street faster than humanly possible. “The Teacher, he acted faster than I thought he would, he sent Man-eater in there.” She’s completely out of breath.

But Angelo can only focus on one thing, Man-eater is at HQ, with The Teacher, and his whole team is in there.

He gets to his feet in an instant, pushing past Tracy and running to the adventure park before anyone gets hurt.

“Angelo!” Tracy calls behind him, her footsteps heavy behind him. “You can’t go there, he’s after _you_!”

“That’s exactly why I’m going there, He doesn’t want my friends, I can save them,” he retorts.

Ethan almost got killed last time, this can’t happen again, they’re just kids for fuck’s sake!

He can see it, the entrance to the park just a few meters away he just needs to- to—  
  


_Pain_ , white pain tearing through his body, leaving him on the ground unable to move.

Once again Tracy leans over him. “I’m sorry, but I _can’t_ let you get there,” Tracy says, holding some sort of device in her hand, she fucking tazed him, or whatever the fuck she did to him. “He won’t hurt your friends if they can help him get to you.”

And maybe she’s right, maybe his friends are safer if he doesn’t go there after all, that means he’ll have the element of surprise on The Teacher when he’ll go rescue them. He’ll stay with Tracy, hiding until he finds a plan to get everyone back.

He sighs, accepting his fate, his head dropping to the ground as his muscles go lax.

Tracy looks at him with something strange in her eyes, a mix between sadness and the most paralyzing fear he ever saw. A second later the look is gone and she’s smirking at him, holding her phone to her ear.

“I have him,” she says, and after putting down the phone, she explains to his panicking face that “nobody was attacking HQ.”

She tricked him, _she fucking tricked him_.

He wants to scream, to kick her in that stupid face of hers, but he _can’t_ , every muscle in his body is asleep. And she lied to his face about everything, made sure he would panic, and believe her every word, before stabbing him right in the back.

“Do you really think Man-eater was enough to defeat your team? You really don’t trust them enough,” The Teacher chuckles, appearing from behind the shadows of a dumpster. “You did a great job Tracy.” His hand cup her face in a firm grip. “Continue like this and I’ll forgive you for your many mistakes.”

Tracy stays silent, eyes fixed on her uncle. The device she used on Angelo turning on and off in her hands.

A van appears at the corner of the street, and the device stays turned off. Ollie getting out of the van and shaking hands with The Teacher.

“I can’t believe that brat’s plan worked,” he says, eyeing Tracy with disgust. “I thought we had to cancel the whole deal.”

The Teacher laughs. “Oh no, we’ll get the rest of his team in time, as long as he stays with us it won’t be a problem.”

Angelo lays defenseless on the ground, his eyes stuck on Tracy like it would kill her if he stared long enough. He thought she stopped working with her uncle after how bad he treated her, but apparently she’s still just a fucking puppet for him to play with.

He thought they were friends, that she was at least a little bit on his side.

“Let’s go, it’s getting dark.” Ollie says, and he’s dragging Angelo inside the van, shoving him inside like he’s nothing.

The last thing he sees before the van’s doors close is Tracy, standing alone on the road, eyes cold and _so fucking scared_.

—

“Where _is_ he?” Lola asks for the tenth time in five minutes, “I reminded him about it an hour ago, he can’t have forgotten!”

She’s pacing around the room, worry clear in her face.

“He’ll be here soon,” Sherwood says, more to reassure him than anything.

Five minutes turn to ten, then twenty, and half an hour later Angelo is still missing.

“He isn’t answering his phone.” Ethan is sitting still, tracking his location with his phone. “But my phone says he’s here with us.”

“You’re wrong, _he’s not here_!” Lola yells, she’s at the edge of having a breakdown right here, fingers digging through her hair and pulling.

Butter-Fingers hasn’t said a word, eyes locked on the door in hope to see their friend appear.

 _Always wait an hour before searching around the city_ . That was their rule if someone was missing, to wait. And that’s what they do, nervously waiting for the one hour mark to finally roam around the city and start _looking_ for Angelo.

Maybe he’s testing them, to see if they can follow the rules under stress.

Forty Three minutes, he’s still not showing up.

Forty Four.

Forty Fi— _the door is opening_.

They all get to their feet, ready to yell at Angelo for scaring the shit out of them.

It’s not Angelo.

It’s that fucking black cat having the guts to show up here.

“What are you doing here?” Sherwood asks, at the same time as Lola asking “where is Angelo?”

Meow clenches her fists, eyes glaring at a point somewhere behind them. “You have to leave.”

“What do you mean ‘we have to leave’?” Ethan questions, walking up to Meow.

“ _Leave_!” She yells, tears flooding her eyes, her face red from shame and embarrassment. “Man-eater is in his way right now, if you don’t move they’ll catch you!”

“We’re not going anywhere without Angelo,” Lola snarls, her index digging in her chest as she leans forward into Meow’s space. “Where. Is. He.”

Meow eyes the exit, nervously shifting her weight between her legs. “He... he’s distracting Man-eater so you can leave, now _go_!”

The sound of Man-eater grunting at the door seems to convince them, and they all run to the emergency exit just in time before the giant enters the HQ with a scream of rage.

All of them make it out unarmed, involuntarily dragging Meow with them at their second HQ, an old house in the downtown area, looking like it could fall apart with just a gush of wind.

Angelo will be there soon, right? It doesn’t look like Man-eater was fighting anyone, that means he escaped. _Right?_

Sherwood is out of breath, already running around to plug his computer somewhere, Lola, Ethan and Butter-Fingers dropping to the floor, exhausted after such an adrenaline rush.

Meow watches them, they’re all eyeing the door, expecting their leader to arrive. But he _can’t_ , and it’s her fault. _She has to tell them_.

“Angelo… he’s not coming.” she whispers, crossing her arms in front of her and putting as much space between them as possible. “Right now he’s probably locked up under the school, my uncle’s serum running through his veins while they brainwash him.”

That was the plan after all, to control Dark Angelo.

Butter-Fingers gasps in horror, and Lola jumps to her feet, stomping towards Meow. 

“It’s your fault isn’t it? It’s always your fault.”

The black cat nods, and doesn’t even flinch when Lola’s fist collides with her nose. 

“Get. Out.” Lola spits, swiping the blood from her hand on Meow’s vest.

—

The van stops moving after what felt like an eternity to him, his muscles are back in the game, and he has to find a way to escape, and quick. 

He can hear The Teacher’s voice outside, mixing with Ollie’s, they’re laughing, a twisted happiness filling the air. It makes Angelo want to puke.

Cold air invades his lungs when the door opens, two goons grabbing him by the shoulders to drag him inside the school. He squirms and twists and yell but their grip on his arms is too strong, and he sinks into the bowels of The Teacher’s lair, deep under the ground until no one can hear him scream.

He screams anyway, maybe the black cat at the origin of all of his struggles has a chip hidden here too.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Angelo’s brain becomes soup and nobody listens to Meow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I’m sorry it took me so long to update, this chapter just wouldn’t cooperate. 
> 
> Anyways here’s the third chapter as a gift for all of you, happy holidays to everyone!!

Oh yeah Angelo was not doing great since they _tied him to a chair_ and left him there to rot, but now? Now he’s at the worst he’s ever been. 

The fucking cat is back, his head hurts by just looking at her.

The whole family is here actually, The Teacher, Ollie, Zonka and even Schmitty. But he’s more focused on Meow right now, she stabbed him in the back, shoved his trust down the drain. She deserves to be glared at.

He should’ve expected that from her, she’s always changing sides and everything, but it still hurts.

“What’s up dipshits?” He groans, ”You finally caught me, _congratulations_.”

“Watch your mouth,” The Teacher replies, clasping his hands behind his back, “We wouldn’t want you to end up as uneducated as my niece.”

Ollie snorts, leaning on Schmitty.

“Oh shut up, without me he wouldn’t be here,” Meow snarls, giving her uncle the finger. Her finger isn’t even totally raised that her uncle is already stabbing her in the stomach with the end of his cane, _ouch_. She deserved it

Angelo rolls his eyes. “When you’re done with the family drama, wake me up.” His head falls to the side as he fakes a snore.

That gets his head smacked by Zonka, and then he’s grabbing his arm and The Teacher is putting a needle right through it. He can see the dark— almost black— red of his blood getting sucked out of his veins and ending up in a little tube.

“Ow! What the heck dude?” he yells, glaring at The Teacher with his teeth clenched. “At least explain your plan like a good villain before sucking my blood you mosquito!”

Meow snorts on his left and tries to hide her laugh behind a cough, yeah, yeah, laugh while you still can, you ass. Soon his friends will be here and they will _whoop their butts_. At least he hopes so…

“My plan,” The Teacher— you know what? His name is too long, he’s ‘Asshole’ from now on— says, shaking the tube between his fingers, “is to make sure my serum is compatible with your blood so I can have the best results when injecting it in you.”

“Oh, you’re doing creepy serums now?” Angelo asks, “Didn’t think it was your style.”

Ollie steps forward, telling them that the serum is for him actually, that he plans on building an empire over his fans and forcing them to do all the work for him. He’s doing great for his first time as a villain, he really got the whole ‘explaining all my plan to the hero’ vibe perfectly.

But then again, _creepy serum_.

Now may be a good time to start panicking.

—

He fell asleep somewhere between Meow leaving the room, rubbing her stomach where Asshole planted his cane, and Zonka talking about the weather outside. His head rolling to the side and trying to find a comfortable spot where there is none.

His mom must be worried sick already, or maybe Sherwood covered for him.

When the pain of the needle piercing through his skin wakes him up, Angelo hisses loudly, gritting his teeth.

Then what can only be the serum is injected in his veins and he can _feel_ it, hot and cold at the same time as it rushes up his arm, tastes it in his mouth, sour, sweet, acidic and salty all at once, a indescriptible smell in his nose.

It wraps around his brain, his thoughts. It’s like changing from first person to a third person view in his own mind.

“Ah, I woke you up…” Ollie says, “don’t worry, soon you’ll be totally free of any thoughts.”

And he says ‘don’t worry’? That’s the total opposite of what Angelo’s feeling. He’s so scared he’s _shaking_.

Fear and numbness take over his brain, his consciousness shifting between being there but scared as fuck and being totally absent. Angelo desperately grasps at the fear and tries to ground himself in it.

The ‘thump’ of Meow’s boots in the hallway is almost reassuring, the sound getting louder and louder as she steps inside.

“Ugh... not her again,” Ollie groans, rolling his eyes. “ _Why_ are you here?”

“Uncle dear is busy with Angelo’s mother right now.” Meow crosses her arms and stops behind Ollie. “I’m just here to make sure you don’t fuck up.”

So mom is already looking for him huh? That just means he has to escape faster.

Ollie continues injecting the serum, slowly, to make sure it’s getting accepted by Angelo’s body. “Does this thing even work?” he asks, pointing at the syringe in his hand. “Hey, Angelo, are you losing your free will?”

_The fuck?_

This is _his_ serum and he doesn’t even know if it really works? Holy shit Ollie’s a dumbass.

The disbelief in his eyes must’ve been evident, because Ollie frowns and the cat snickers behind him.

“Shut up! Both of you!” he yells, “Meow if you continue laughing I swear-” his words are interested by his hand raising above his head like he’s about to hit Meow.

She flinches and looks really ashamed of doing so. “ _Asshole_.”

The slap doesn’t even surprise Angelo, Ollie’s hand leaving a red mark on Meow’s cheek. What surprises him is Ollie going numb and hitting the floor.

“What the—”

“Never. Hit me. Again.” Meow snarls, planting her foot on Ollie’s stomach and pressing until she can hear him gasp in pain.

Ah, okay. She’s got her taser-thingy in her hands.

“I’m serious,” she grunts, “hit me again and pretty boy here will be gone before you know it.”

Is he the pretty boy? He must be, Ollie is ugly. 

“ _Yes_ , you are the pretty boy, Angelo— stop laughing!” Meow is yelling, and she’s also… two. Ah, no, he’s hallucinating, or else there’s a clone of her in the room.

Ollie is reaching for something in his belt, it’s shiny and very knife-looking. And Meow is _not_ looking at him while her boot is still crushing his stomach. But then she yells, Ollie just sliced her thigh.

He must’ve thought he could get away with it, but Meow told him, if he hit her again the pretty boy would be gone, and pain doesn’t seem to stop the cat. Maybe his ears are making things louder, but Ollie definitely _screams_ when the taser-thingy hits him. He’s shaking like Peter’s toys after he throws them too hard against the wall. It’s funny.

“Oh.” Angelo’s disappointed when Ollie stops moving, Meow doesn’t leave him time to think— it’s not like he could anyway— and uses Ollie’s knife to cut the restraints holding him to the chair.

“You look pretty,” he says, her eyes digging deeper in his skull than the serum. It comes out more like ‘youlooketty’ or something, even Gigi could do better, so he blushes in embarrassment, his head hanging low.

“Shut. Up.” Meow orders and at least now his brain stops doing backflips. The problem is that he can’t open his mouth even if he tried.

The blood is still dripping down her leg and she takes the ‘tail’ of her costume (it’s just a long leather strap at the end of her belt) and ties it tightly around her leg to stop the bleeding. _Now_ she’s limping.

The rest of the serum still in the syringe ends up in her pockets, along with Ollie’s phone and a pair of keys.

“Follow me.”

And like the mindless noodle he is, Angelo follows, stumbling on the uneven floor and losing his balance constantly. Let’s just hope he won’t be feeling too bad tomorrow, he’ll need his strength back if he wants to kick Meow’s ass.

—

Escaping school is hard in itself, but escaping a school which is also a supervillain lair is nearly impossible. Unless you’re Meow apparently.

She walks around like she knows the place better than her own head, silent as a shadow while Angelo stumbles like an idiot behind her.

He doesn’t really know why Meow snapped, why she’s going through so much trouble to get him out of there after being the one putting him here in the first place.

“Will you stop mumbling?” she asks, shoulders tense as she sucks in a breath. “I’m _trying_ to get both of us out of here with a bleeding leg and no assistance whatsoever, so a little silence would be _great_.”

Ah, he was talking? He doesn’t remember saying anything though, must be the serum. There’s noise behind them, but this time it’s not him, at least that’s what he thinks.

“Meow, _stop_. Don’t do anything you might regret.”

So there _was_ noise behind them! His brain isn’t completely fried yet! Woohoo! He’s never been so excited to see Zonka before.

Zonka steps closer to them. “Think of The Teacher, he let things go in the past but he will definitely hurt you now. I know you don’t want this Meow.”

There’s a small ‘kashleeking’ sound on his side and— holy shit Meow has retractable claws in her gloves! That is so cool! 

“Angelo, shut up,” Meow spits, “And you— ” she turns to Zonka so fast Angelo’s starting to get dizzy “— come fight me instead of acting like my dad.”

It’s a shame all of the movement makes his head spin, Meow is way too fast for his serum-induced brain to catch up, and the next thing he knows Zonka is on the floor, his cheek bleeding from Meow’s claws slicing the skin.

“That was so cool!” Angelo exclaims, a laugh escaping his lips.

Meow is supposed to be limping, to have a gruesome cut across her arm and a bruised stomach. Yet here she is, kicking ass like a queen. Yeah no, unless she lets him go there’s no way he can fight her by himself without his costume. God, does he miss the gadgets, and the mask, and his phone.

“ _Shut up!_ ”


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter of the year, yay!
> 
> I’m putting a warning here because there’ll be mentions of abuse in this chapter and it will probably be mentioned for the rest of the fic and I don’t want anyone getting triggered or feeling uncomfortable.

“What do you mean ‘they’re gone’?”

“ _ She caught me by surprise! I couldn’t do anything! _ ”

Owen groans, stomping even faster across his office, his grip hard enough on his phone to hurt his hand. “I warned you about my niece, I told you to use the serum as soon as she showed signs of being a threat to the mission!”

“ _ You think I had the time to use the fucking serum— her heel was literally digging in my lungs! _ ”

This was going to be a long night… “Listen,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers to stop the migraine from spreading, “I’m  _ this _ close to giving up on you.” He held his free hand in the air, his fingers millimeters from touching. “Come to my office with the rest of the serum and we’ll figure something else, but it’s the last time, understand?”

The call falls silent, before a gigantic sigh leaves Ollie’s mouth, a groan following it. “ _ Your niece took the serum _ .”

“She  _ what _ ?”

—

Is it really important to roam the streets for twenty minutes to be sure no one is following you? It is to Meow apparently. Usually Angelo would’ve agreed with her, but tonight his brain is doing backflips and that stupid cat is limping more and more as the night settles. 

The cut on her arm is already bad enough, it stops her from raising her arm as high as the other, and judging by what he saw when Sherwood took care of it, it might be infected. She can’t keep going like this.

Yet here she is, merging with the shadows as she drags Angelo in narrow streets and places he never knew existed.

He still hates her, of course he does, but dread settles in his gut when she trips over air for the third time in as many minutes. As clouded as his mind is, Angelo knows when shit starts to hit the fan. And it’s starting right now.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Meow hisses, her hand gripping at her thigh and when she holds it back up, Angelo can see a dark stain of  _ something _ on her glove.  _ Fuck indeed _ .

They can’t keep doing this, they need to go to HQ, to find Sherwood, to do something,  _ anything _ .

“Meow.”

“Not now,” she says, using the wall next to her to keep walking straight.

The blood on her glove leaves a smeared line on the bricks, dark red digging into his vision until it’s all Angelo can focus on.

Meow’s hurt, she can’t walk properly, she must be exhausted as fuck, and the adrenaline is probably wearing down at this point, he can’t imagine she pain she must be in. He’s doing much better, he just has a fuzzy brain, which he always has on Fridays anyway, today is just a really big Friday for him.

Okay that’s it, he’s taking over.

“ _ Meow _ .”

“I said,  _ not now _ !”

“ _ Tracy _ !”

His voice was loud enough to startle Meow, her hand slipped from the wall and the only reason she’s not face first in the dust is because of Angelo’s arm around her waist. If he blushes, it’s just his brain going through fourteen loopings because of physical contact, absolutely not because of Meow.

“We’re finding Sherwood, and I’m taking the lead from now on.” He stops touching Meow as soon as she regains her balance, brushing his hand on his jeans with a sneer. Meow was  _ burning hot _ when he touched her.

Meow looks like she wants to say something back, but she only nods and tells him “Your friends are at the old house downtown, at least that’s where I last saw them.”

The old house is just a lure, they set it in case someone unreliable was following them, who in their right mind would set their HQ in a house on the bridge of destruction? If his crew took Tracy there, there’s no chance of finding them anymore.  _ Shit _ .

“Do  _ you _ have an HQ?”

—

And that’s how you end up in Tracy’s bedroom at four in the morning while her parents are sleeping and expecting her to be with her uncle. She really needs to find a proper lair,  _ her bedroom _ isn’t safe enough for fuck’s sake!

“I need to get changed,” she says.

After spending some time searching through her closet, she pulls out biker shorts and a plaid skirt, as well as her usual light blue shirt.

“Are you sure you want to wear a  _ skirt _ ?” Angelo asks.

Tracy rolls her eyes, “You don’t expect someone in a skirt to kick your ass into oblivion,” she spits back, “have you seen my other boots?”

The ‘other boots’ were behind her door, they’re just black leather boots going up to her ankles and with heels about  _ eight centimeters _ high. “That’s to kick ass by surprise too?”

“No, that’s just to impress you.”

_ The fuck? _

Well, she  _ did _ tell him she could do anything better than him, backwards  _ and _ while wearing heels. So she’s got a point. But still,  _ you don’t wear heels and a skirt when you’re fighting against someone ready to stab you! _

Tracy holds all of her clothes to her chest and glares at Angelo, the headache that was almost gone coming back with how hard she’s glaring at him.

“What?”

“I’m waiting for you to turn around or something, you know, so I can change.”

Oh right, yeah, he should’ve thought of that. Embarrassment makes his cheek flush a burning red. “I-I uh… sorry,” he blurts out, turning around as fast as humanly possible and almost falling in the process.

Tracy’s wall is… strangely interesting, there’s pictures of her hanging up in a neat line and blue curtains framing the window, and… is that a knife planted in his face? Wow, real mature Tracy, do you also throw darts at it when you’re bored? Judging by the state the picture of him is in, that’s a yes.

“This shirt is so fucking annoying to button up…” Tracy mutters. Angelo almost turns around by reflex before she exclaims that she’s not done yet and if you thought his cheek couldn’t go redder before, you’re dead wrong.

“Aren’t you parents gonna wake up with how much noise we make?” he asks, eyes digging into the floor.

“They sleep downstairs and they wear earplugs to sleep. I think we’re safe,” Tracy deadpans.

No need to be a smartass…

“ _ Now _ you can turn around,” she says, and Angelo waits a few seconds just to be sure.

He hadn’t noticed the old bruises on her knees before, she must have done that from missing a few landings. And the scar running down her right arm, slicing her biceps in half as opposed to the more recent cut on her other arm, this one just a blur of yellow and blue a few centimeters away from her elbow. Tracy must hide the scars with makeup at school, because there’s no way he could’ve missed them.

But fuck, Tracy’s pretty, even with the scars and the bags under her eyes, _she’s_ _so fucking pretty it hurts_.

“When you’re done drooling, can you pass me the first aid kit? It’s under my desk,” she says, sitting down on her bed and letting her head fall against her pillow.

For your information, he wasn’t drooling. He was just slightly gaping at her, there’s a difference.

Taking it up, he notices that the first aid kit is too light in his hands, how many cuts did Tracy have to stitch up like this?

“You want some help or..?” The keyword here is  _ want _ , because even if Tracy  _ needs _ help, she’s not getting any unless she wants it. He learned that the hard way.

“No,” she retorts, “you can take a nap or something, I’ll be quiet.”

They both know what’s under her words, a hidden ‘ _ I’ll wake you up if I want your help _ ’ resting between them. The closest thing to vulnerability Tracy is willing to show, and Angelo is fine with that.

“Okay,” he nods, taking off his shoes and his hoodie and slumping down on Tracy’s bed. “Uh, why are you wearing your boots if we’re staying in your house?”

“Because it makes me look good, now go to sleep.”

“... you look good without the heels too,” he whispers, and hides his face in the pillow so he can’t see her reaction.

—

With Angelo’s back to her, Tracy lets her guard down a bit more, and allows herself to hiss in pain as she shifts on the bed. That cut is gonna be a pain to take care of…

The bleeding had almost stopped by itself, but climbing up her window cancelled any progress her body had done with healing itself. She’s lucky Angelo didn’t see the blood or he would’ve been in her face all night.

Back to step one then, stopping the bleeding. Her mother’s scarf on her bedside table will be enough for that, she never liked that scarf anyways. 

Tears spill from her eyes when she ties the scarf around the cut, a wet dot forming on the white fabric, before disappearing as blood begins to stain. The dark red spreads in a large shape on her thigh, like ink spilled on a paper. It’s almost poetic.

Step two is to keep her leg elevated, so she snatches the pillows from under Angelo’s head— waking him up in the process— and places them under her leg before laying down.

“Warn me next time,” Angelo whispers, turning around to face her.

He saw the tears on her cheeks, he saw the way she flinched in pain when she moved her leg, yet he doesn’t mention it, and Tracy is grateful for that. Instead, he sighs and turns his face to the ceiling.

“I feel like it’s been days since I was shoved in your uncle’s van…” His hand raises up to point at the lamp on the ceiling and he gestures at it softly. “My head still feels like shit.”

Tracy can still feel Ollie’s knife digging in her arm, the way he whispered threats in her ear while her uncle nodded in satisfaction. ‘ _ Obey him, Tracy. Or I’ll make him do worse than that. _ ’ She can hear herself screaming that she’ll never work for him, she can feel the cane digging in her stomach, she can feel herself losing hope.

‘ _ Find a way to bring Dark Angelo to me, do it for me, your uncle. _ ’

They were family, Tracy thought if she kept doing what he wanted he’ll be happy, but he made her do  _ everything _ . Every little task until Tracy collapsed from exhaustion.

Days after days she thought she would finally snap, but every time he'd say something nice, tell her he needed her, and she would go back with him.

Find Dark Angelo’s lair? Sure, here it is. Break his trust and stab him in the back? Why not, she’ll do it.

But hearing him hiss in pain while Van Dunk plays with his brain? Watching him glare at her with so much disgust in his eyes, his fist clenched tight and his back arched? Realizing that, for Angelo, everything was  _ her  _ fault?

_ Fuck no _ .

“What are you thinking about?” Angelo whispers, dragging her back in the present with as much force as a shove.

“I-I… I’m glad you’re here.”

_ I’m glad you’re with me _ ,  _ I’m glad you’re safe _ .

“Well of course you are!” he exclaims, “Who would help with your wounds if I wasn’t there?” 

Not what she meant but okay.

“Has the bleeding stopped yet?” he asks, sitting up to look at her thigh. His fingers graze over her skin when he removes the scarf, and he hums happily when blood doesn’t stain his fingers. “I’ll get the Betadine,” he says, turning to the first aid kit.

—

“I don’t know why you changed your mind and helped me escape,” Angelo says, cleaning the wound with as much care as he can possibly express, “but thank you.”

Tracy’s looking up at the ceiling, an arm over her eyes to hide the tears he knows damn well are there while her glasses rest on her chest. “You’re welcome,” she says, then more softly adds, “I’m sorry I betrayed you…”

He puts the Betadine back, and pulls out bandages out of the kit. He’s almost done covering the wound when he asks “He forced you to work for him?” It’s barely a question when it escapes his lips, and he gets his answer when Tracy takes a sharp inhale that makes her whole body tense up.

“Every time I said I was done, I kept coming back.” Her free hand shifts on the mattress, Angelo wants to hold it, but he needs to focus on her leg. “You looked at me like I was  _ him _ . If you hadn’t I would still be with my uncle.”

“Let’s make sure he can’t force you back this time,” Angelo declares, patting her knee when he’s done and placing the first aid kit on the floor. “I feel like this conversation needs a hug, do you want one?”

Tracy stays silent, instead she opens her arms with a sigh and groans when Angelo falls over her, her hands rest on his back, and she’s still eyeing the ceiling, so Angelo hides his face in the crook of her neck.

—

“Tracy?”

“What?”

“You placed a chip on Sherwood’s computer, right?

Oh.

_ Oh _ .

“Oh.”

“Exactly,” he says, she can feel his smile on her shoulder. “Wanna find out where he’s hiding?”

“Give me my laptop,” Tracy retorts, sitting up and pushing Angelo away, a smile menacing to show. “I also placed one on Lola when she punched me in the face, just to be sure. Thank god you’re here or I would’ve forgotten about them.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m amazing even out of the costume.” He smirks and leans on her shoulder to watch what she’s doing.

Tracy pats his head. “Of course you are.”

Fortunately he didn’t hear the part about Lola, that would be embarrassing.

The laptop turns on with an awfully loud noise, and after a few clicks a map appears on the screen, a dozen colored dots plastering it.

She points at a pink dot near the marketplace. “Lola’s here.” After a few seconds her finger shifts to the other side of town, pointing at a green dot. “And that’s Sherwood.”

“Why are they on patrol on a Friday night? It’s meeting night!”

Is he serious?

“Angelo, you just got kidnapped,” Tracy’s deadpans, “to them you’re still getting brainwashed in my uncle’s basement.”

He makes a face before saying “We should probably tell them I’m okay. Do you know where my phone is?”

The phone— oh… “The van rolled over it.”

Poor phone, may he rest in peace.

“Guess we’re meeting them in person then, I’ll take Lola, you take Sherwood.”

_ But she just bandaged her leg! _

Well it’s not like she has much of a choice, Angelo is already jumping out of her window.

—

Why is it always the shadiest part of town? Can’t it be a nice big street full of light? Well, Sherwood’s costume is bright green, she can still find him, but some light would make the whole thing a lot less creepy.

Sherwood’s computer is right there on the ground, but no sign of him.

_ Where could he be? _

Behind her it seems, because he’s suddenly hitting her behind the head and— wow, he’s really bad at this.

“Stop hitting me, I’m on your side!” she groans, pushing him away. “Angelo’s with Lola, you can check yourself,” she continues, pointing at the walkie-talkie on his belt.

Just as she’s done talking, the walkie turns on and Lola’s voice fills the alley. “ _ Sher, he’s here! Angie’s with me! _ ”

“ _ Hi Sher! _ ” Angelo says, proving that, yes, he’s with her, “ _ Is Tracy with you yet? She’s hurt so I don’t know if she walks as fast as she used to _ .”

Tracy frowns and snatches the walkie-talkie from Sherwood, still too shocked to say anything. “Fuck you Angelo! I can still kick your ass!”

“ _ Yes you can, _ ” he chuckles, affection so clear in his voice Tracy wants to puke.

“Y-y-you,  _ what? _ ” Sherwood mutters, taking the walkie-talkie back. “You’re really here?”

“ _ Yes! _ ”

He’s almost funny to watch, gaping like a fish.

“ _ We’re waiting for you at the adventure park _ .” And with that the conversation ends, Lola is probably hugging Angelo to death right now.

“Uh… sorry for hitting you, I guess.”

Tracy rolls her eyes. “Come on, they're waiting for us.”

—

“Just so you know, I’m thankful Tracy helped you escape, but I don’t trust her.”

Lola leans against the Adventure Park’s wooden walls, crossing her arms in front of her.

“I don't trust her too,” Angelo retorts, biting down on the sandwich he just bought at the vending machine. “I love her, but I don’t trust her.”

“Wait, what?” Lola laughs, tilting her head to the side and elbowing his arm. “You  _ love _ her?”

No point in denying it now, right? His ears are burning red anyway, so there’s nothing left to deny. He  _ does  _ love Tracy. “Of course I do…”

“Aww, that’s cute!” Lola pats him on the shoulder and steals a pickle from his sandwich while he’s looking away. “So… how was the brainwashing?”

Another bite at the sandwich.

“It was shit.”

“Shit shit or just shit?”

“Shit shit  _ shit _ .”

Lola snorts, “No but how was it? They hypnotized you or put you in front of a TV for hours?”

“Injected a serum in my blood actually,” he explains, “the kind that makes you lose control over your thoughts.”

“Oh…”

“But like, after a few minutes it stopped working and just made my brain stupid. Even Ollie wasn’t sure it was working properly!”

“He’s dumb,” Lola declares, “good at skating, but dumb.”

He missed Lola a lot tonight, Angelo realizes. He spent so much time stressing over things that it’s a relief to be able to finally rest.

Not for long though, because as soon as he’s done with the sandwich, an altercation can be heard somewhere in a nearby street, it sounds a bit too violent to be a simple fight between neighbors, and Angelo drags Lola with him to take a look.

—

“There you are Tracy! I thought you were gone for good this time!”

“ _ Owen _ ,” Tracy spits, stepping in front of Sherwood by pure instinct. “How did you find me?”

“Oh I didn’t, I just had to follow your little friend here for a while.” Her uncle nods at Sherwood, clicking his tongue. “By the way, I am  _ furious _ , you’re definitely going to get the serum now.”

“And that’s supposed to make me want to come with you?”

He laughs, kicking his cane and twirling it around his wrist. “Young lady, you don’t have a choice,  _ you never had _ .”

—

“Make a choice Angelo, it’s as simple as that!”

Both Tracy and Sherwood are behind Asshole, Ollie keeping Sherwood in place with a knife to his throat while Tracy has to be fucking held back by both Zonka and Schmitty, blood running from her thigh.

“My niece or your best friend, choose one and I’ll let them go, the other is coming with me.”

“Choose me, Angelo,” Tracy says, “Sherwood’s useless anyway.” She’s not looking at him, eyes focused on something behind him, a frown stuck on her face. It’s not the look of someone wanting to be saved.

“What? No! I’m not useless, I made all of your gadgets, and I never betrayed you!” Sherwood retorts, shutting up as soon as Ollie tightens his grip on the knife.

“But at least  _ I  _ know how to fight.” Tracy digs her elbow in Schmitty’s stomach, smirking when he groans in pain. “I helped you escape Angelo,  _ you owe me _ .”

“She really expects us to choose her after that?” Lola whispers in Angelo’s ear.

Realization hits him like a train.

“She doesn’t.”

_ She wants to make them choose Sherwood. _

That’s why she looks so resigned, she knows she’s not escaping her uncle this time.

After everything she told him, Tracy’s ready to return with her uncle if it means Sherwood can be safe.

_ Fuck _ .

Minutes feel like hours, Angelo  _ can’t _ choose.

His eyes keep going back to Sherwood and Tracy, ignoring Asshole completely and feeling himself growing more and more panicked each time a drop of Tracy’s blood falls to the floor.

A sigh breaks the silence.

“We don’t have all night Angelo, and I’m getting bored.” Asshole plays with the cane in his hands, pointing the end of it to Angelo. “Make a decision, who will you save?  _ Sherwood, or Tracy _ ?”

Unable to decide on his own, Angelo turns his face to Lola.

“You know who to save,” she whispers, sadly she’s right, he made his decision a long time ago.

Tracy’s hiding her tears behind her bangs, the blood is all Angelo can focus on, drenching the bandage and dripping to the ground. “Don’t be an idiot,” she says.

‘ _ Let’s make sure he can’t force you back this time. _ ’

Sherwood is silent, his eyes meeting Angelo and piercing through his skull with how much fear he sees in them. Without him the team will crumble, without him Asshole basically wins. Angelo’s crew  _ needs _ Sherwood. 

A tear rolls down his best friend’s face when he mouths ‘do it’, head held high with pride, fist clenched at his sides.

‘ _ You love her? _ ’

‘ _ Of course I do… _ ’

“Tracy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you thought of this chapter in the comments, it’s always a delight to read them! (Tell me if you see any mistakes, I’m too tired to look for them right now)
> 
> Have a good day / night!


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